


White Lace And Fireworks

by durgasdragon



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-05
Updated: 2011-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-14 10:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/durgasdragon/pseuds/durgasdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo’s school holds a festival, complete with a ‘date for a day’ auction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Lace And Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LifeInAHole27](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LifeInAHole27).



  
  
**White Lace And Fireworks**   
  


_Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Tite Kubo’s_ Bleach _and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece_

 _Summery: Ichigo’s school holds a festival, complete with a ‘date for a day’ auction._

 _Author’s Note: Written for LifeInAHole27. Out-of-characterness, swearing, and gratuitous liberties are things to watch out for._

 _Constructive Criticism is always welcomed_

 _Published: 14 February 2008_

 _Rating: T_

Kon took one look at him and fell over with laughter.

Yuzu’s shoulders twitched and she suddenly found the sweeping far more interesting than she had a moment before, a giggle pointedly caught between her teeth.

Karin tilted her head and made a dry comment about it being a bad look for him.

Kon’s fuzzy face was a strange shade of orange from laughing so hard.

Ichigo’s father stopped mid-kick, unable to choose between following Kon’s example and screaming hysterically at his son.

Ichigo glared as darkly as he could—considering his predicament—and desperately tried not to scratch. Who would have thought that lace— _lace_ , for gods’ sake!—could be so _itchy_?

He wished wildly for a hollow to come. At least he then he could force Kon into this monstrosity and maybe—if he was lucky—it would eat him and he’d never have to worry about it again.

Because this entire thing was downright humiliating.

He stalked out of the house, not gracing anyone with a backwards glance. The sooner he got to the school, the sooner this would end and he could _get out_ of this _monstrosity_.

His family followed him, Yuzu whispering to their father something about not wanting to miss out on such an opportunity and their father agreeing. Karin only snapped more pictures.

The walk to the school was not something that Ichigo ever wanted to repeat. He had a nasty feeling that there wasn’t going to be _anything_ about the day worth remembering, much less repeating, but his class had lost and this was the price. Still, the catcalls and the stares didn’t quite make the loss feel fair at all. It also was looking less and less like a worthy cause at every piece of ridicule.

It was almost a relief to get to the school. With the Festival going strong, it was easy to lose his family and find the classroom that the rest of his class was hiding in until the biding started. There also was something to be said about being surrounded by people who looked just as stupid as he did, if not more so.

Chad definitely fell into the ‘more so’ category. With his size, he just looked absolutely preposterous in the huge puffy atrocity of lace, ribbon, and netting. The princess pink floaty gauze that fluttered in the nonexistent breeze didn’t help his case.

Orihime just looked like she was in a bit of pain from being so strapped in and she seemed to have troubles with the chains that hung out of her pockets—they kept catching on chairs. Keigo—as was to be expected of the teen—was throwing a dramatic fit in the corner and causing the silks he was wearing to be covered in water stains and gods knew what else. Mizuiro was attempting to walk without breaking something—like his leg—and wobbled so much that no-one would get close to him. Ruika looked puzzled by her tie and couldn’t seem to get anyone to help her figure it out.

Ichigo slouched off to a corner and flopped down in a desk, white lace and shimmery material gliding softy around him. It seemed incomprehensible, but he knew the day was going to a hell of a lot worse before it got anything remotely close to better.

Their teacher stuck her head in the room. “Everyone get ready! We’ll be starting in five minutes! Remember, all the money we get goes towards rebuilding the west wing that was destroyed last month, so do your best to bring lots in!”

Ichigo remembered the hollow that had flatted that part of the school and now wished he had spent more time dismembering the damn thing.

Resigned and boiling with embarrassment, the entire class shuffled towards the backstage area where they would wait until they would wait until it was their moment to be utterly humiliated. A quick glance confirmed Ichigo’s worst fears; the space in front of the constructed stage was packed to the gills with people carrying cameras and holding the flat fans with their numbers on it.

The audience roared when Chad slunk out and the bidding could begin.

Despite the deep levels of mortification that Ichigo was feeling, he couldn’t help but be amazed at the amount of some of the winning bids. Orihime had the highest winning bet so far, but only because Tatsuki had taken pity on the busty girl and gotten into a bidding war with Chizuru over her. Ichigo guessed that Orihime was immensely grateful for that—spending the whole day not only dressed like that and being strapped in like she was and then having to put up with Chizuru all day was pretty close to what he imagined hell to be like.

Ichigo tried to keep his sulking glare down when it was his turn, but it was hard. The catcalls from his father and the loud derisive comments from the brat Jinta didn’t help.

It was also hard not to look menacing in all that fucking lace.

Then a number— _easily_ three times the amount Orihime’s winning bid was—was called out.

A stunned silence washed over the area. Ichigo shifted his weight and he heard the left heel on the torture devices called shoes snap. He promptly lost his balance.

His fall broke the tension and the entire audience cheered and laughed. Face as red as his hair, Ichigo shoved lace and netting out of the way and managed to get up. Walking out of the stage with as much dignity as he could, Ichigo stiffly loped his way over to where people were paying.

When Uryuu stoically handed the blushing and nervously giggling girl his cheque for the bid he must have placed, Ichigo didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until the bespectacled boy gave Ichigo a flat stare and said “Are you going to stand there all day looking stupid or are you going to come?” that he realised exactly what was happening.

“You have _got_ to be shitting me. What the hell were you _thinking_?!”

Uryuu raised his eyebrow into a delicate arch. “That white’s wasted on clumsy useless putz like you, especially since you can’t be bothered to even make the effort to keep it clean. If I had known that you were going to get that dress, I most certainly would have used a different colour. Now, come on; you’re holding up the line and causing a scene.”

Ichigo stormed after the arrogant boy as best he could in only one functional shoe. “You knew _exactly_ who each dress was going to! There are crosses all over this thing!”

“Not as many as I would have had I known it was yours,” Uryuu snapped lowly. “Had I known the measurements for that gown belonged to, the entire thing would have been covered in them.” He shoved his glasses up and glared at the redhead. “Are you going to be more agreeable or am I going have to demand a refund?”

The unspoken threat of what would come if the largest bid had to be refunded caused Ichigo to clench his jaw and say nothing. He limped after the Quincy, trying to hike up his skirt and keep it out of the way of his feet.

Uryuu glanced down. “What, no stockings?” He smirked as Ichigo wrestled off his not-broken shoe.

“Shut up,” Ichigo growled. There would be less long-term damage to his feet (and his pride, for that matter) if he just went barefoot. Things were getting surreal—even by his standards—and perhaps once his feet were firmly on the ground, a sense of normalcy would be restored.

If anything, the day got weirder. Uryuu—while his usual snobbish self—seemed to be less bitter and sarcastic. People acted like it was _normal_ that a good chunk of the fairgoers were dressed in outrageous drag. Only three people made fun of Ichigo’s hair and he got yanked off before he could inflict too much damage (he was told that first, that’s not how a ‘lady’ acts and second, he’d ruin the ‘lovely, dreamy’ dress that Uryuu had made); other people seemed to think since Ichigo was the one in white lace to help out his school, it was their duties to make sure that no-one made fun of him.

It didn’t help with Ichigo’s sense of reality when Uryuu won a goldfish and shoved it at Ichigo, muttering something about not having time to feed it.

He started looking for the coming army of arrancars because this was clearly the beginning of the end of the world.

As it started to get darker, Uryuu’s aimless wandering between the booths changed and he moved very purposefully through the stalls. Ichigo had to hike his dress up so he could keep up with the faster pace that the Quincy was setting.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes as the dark-haired boy lead them to behind the school and started to climb the ladder that lead to the roof.

“Hold it, I am _not_ following you up there!”

Even in the fading light, he could see the smirk. “I should have known that the Soul Reaper would be scared.”

“I’m wearing a goddamn _dress_! I’ve got a fuckin’ _fish_! I ain’t climbing _any_ ladders!”

Uryuu rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’ll take the stairs. And pick up the pace back there. I’ve seen dead hollows move faster than you do.”

Muttering profanities under his breath, he hurried after. As soon as the firework display ended, he could be free, never to repeat this experience again.

Ichigo stopped and glared at the blanket that was spread out on the rocky surface of the roof. “Okay, when the hell did you decide that this was a date?”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Uryuu was blushing. “Shut up and sit down. The display is going to be starting soon and I’m not going to miss it because you’re a stupid idiot.”

Ichigo glowered angrily and plopped his fish down on the edge of the blanket. “You could have gotten a lot farther if you had just fuckin’ _asked_ me out like a _normal_ human being instead of going through all this, you ass!”

A thin shoulder lifted slightly. “Yes, but how else was I supposed to see you dress up like a bride?”

Ichigo twitched. “If you think for _one minute_ that I’m going to be some goddamn _girl_ , you have got another thing—”

“You’re going to miss the fireworks display if you just stand there ranting.”

“Hey!” Ichigo stomped on Uryuu’s head. “If you think— _get out of there_!”

They ended up in tangled mess of lace and limbs. “Nobody expects you to be a girl,” Uryuu hissed darkly from under Ichigo, hands tugging Ichigo’s head down.

Ichigo didn’t finish the final distance. “Then you need to think of a better way to get me to notice your crush.” He snapped back, ignoring the increasingly furious pulls that tried to pull him closer.

Uryuu snarled and shoved up, kissing Ichigo harshly. “This…better?” He taunted between sharp mouth mashes. Ichigo decided it didn’t need a verbal answer.

A loud boom broke them apart as the flares filled the sky. Ichigo flopped on his back next to Uryuu and stared up at the sky, not really seeing the colourful display.

“You know what?” Uryuu finally broke the silence a few moments later.

“What?”

“You look good in lace.”

  
_x Fin x_   



End file.
